The Story of Before (33 page)

Lies . . . It was something to do with lies. Someone was telling lies. That was it, wasn’t it? Or someone wasn’t telling the truth.

Was that the same thing? I wasn’t sure.

‘No . . . I . . . no . . . I don’t know.’

‘Wouldn’t have had something to do with your dad and the Lawless lad’s mother, would it?’

I looked at Dad. ‘I . . . don’t think so.’

‘You don’t
think
so?’ Dad said. ‘There’s NOTHING GOING ON! It’s all in his twisted little head!’

‘But what about all the things he saw?’ I yelled. ‘And the things
I
saw!’

‘What things?
What things, for God’s sake
?’

‘The things I told Mam. Like kissing Liz.’

‘That’s absolute rubbish!’

‘But why would he lie?’

‘He’s winding you up! I thought you were more intelligent than to be taken in by something like that!’

The sergeant sipped his tea, his ordinary eyes watching us over the top of his mug.

‘Even if that isn’t true,’ I said, ‘you were with her down in The Ramblers.’

‘I was sitting beside her. That’s all.’

‘I know what I saw!’

He came over and leaned in to me, gripping the edge of the table. ‘I’ll tell you what you saw, shall I? Then maybe you’ll shut up and we can get on with finding your brother.
What you saw was that woman in bits, after being beaten about by her own son. Terrified of him, she was! What was I supposed to do? I only went down for a quiet drink. I didn’t arrange to
meet up with her!’

I searched his face for something that would show me he was lying. But I couldn’t find it.

‘Shayne?’ I said. ‘You mean . . . Shayne?’

‘Yes! Shayne! Precious Shayne! Why do you think I warned you to stay away from him?’

‘But . . . what about . . . his uncle Vic? Shayne said he was beating his Mam. That’s what Shayne said. He said—’

‘He said! He said!
Forget about what he said
! Just discount whatever he told you, all right? You can’t believe a single word out of his mouth!’

‘And . . . and Christmas night?’ I asked him. ‘When you went for a walk?’

‘What about it?’

‘He said . . . I mean . . . You did call to their house, didn’t you?’

‘I went out for a breath of air! If he told you anything else, he’s shaggin’ well lying! And all that stuff you told your mother about the woods? A load of shit! A complete
heap of crap! What do you take me for, Ruth? What sort of man do you think I am?’

‘But if it’s all lies – if Shayne’s been telling lies and hitting his mam and everything – why did you never tell me?’

Dad thumped his fists on the table. The sergeant’s mug tipped over, the tea splashing out in a pool that spilled over the edge and dripped down to the floor. ‘BECAUSE I’M YOUR
FATHER!’ he screamed into my face. He slumped down in a chair and put his head in his hands. ‘And I brought you to this place! This godforsaken . . .
Jesus Christ.
I don’t
know! I don’t know.’

Sergeant Pearce stood up and carefully lifted his chair back in under the table. ‘So. You’ve been angry with your father for quite a while, Ruth. Is that right? He was doing
something he shouldn’t have been, that’s what you thought, and you . . . maybe you wanted to . . . hurt him in some way for that? When he asked you to look after your brother, perhaps
you weren’t as . . . as careful as you should have been. Hmm?’

Dad raised his head. ‘Tell me that’s not true, Ruth,’ he said, looking into my eyes.

‘It’s not! It’s not true!
I swear
! I’d never do anything to hurt Kev! I was looking after him.
I was
!’

The sergeant took a dishcloth from the sink and threw it over the pool of tea on the table. ‘We have to look at the whole picture here. And we won’t know how deep the water is until
we dive in, isn’t that right?’ He walked around the room, then stood behind me. ‘What you’re saying, Mick, is that the Lawless lad is violent towards his mother. Am I right
in thinking that?’

‘What? He . . . Yes, yes, I suppose that is what I’m saying. I—’

‘You’re quite sure about that?’

‘Yes! I . . . Look, that’s not what’s important! Find out what’s happening to my little boy!’ Then Dad reached out his hand for mine. ‘Look, Ruth. I know I
should’ve told you about all this before. But I thought things would settle down. And maybe I thought you were too young to deal with it all, I don’t know. I just wanted it to go away.
I wanted you to have friends, to be happy here. That’s all I wanted. For you to be happy here.’

I gripped his fingers tight in my own. I could see it in the way he looked at me, the way his eyes were sort of pleading and sad and . . . helpless.

It was the truth.

He wouldn’t lie to me now. Not today. Not when Kev was missing and the guards were here and Mam was . . .

Oh God. What was happening? Where was everything that I thought was true? I knew things, didn’t I? I was the one who understood. I sensed stuff. I noticed everything. I watched more
closely than anyone else. I . . .

Shayne. I had to find him.

Mel appeared, fidgeting with the buttons on his shirt and looking anxious. ‘There’s someone at the door.’

The sergeant nodded at the guards and one of them went out into the hall. A soft hum came filtering down to the kitchen. It was Father Feely. He bustled in, bringing with him the smell of
cabbage and candles. And slipping in silently behind him was a pale and frightened-looking David O’Dea.

‘Good of you to come, Father,’ the sergeant said. He looked at David. ‘Young O’Dea, isn’t it?’

‘It is,’ Father Feely answered. ‘It is indeed.’ He ushered David into the middle of the room. ‘This is a terrible business. A terrible business altogether. I was
just out there having a word with all the neighbours and this young man came out to me. He has something he’d like to tell.’

Dad fired the questions at David. ‘What? What is it? Do you know something? Did you see someone? Do you know where Kevin is?’

‘Hold on, Mick,’ the sergeant said. ‘Let the lad talk.’

David clicked the stud on his wristband and kept his head down as we waited for him to speak. Father Feely coughed. The sergeant sniffed. Then we strained to hear as David lifted his face to
Dad’s.

‘You should’ve just left it,’ he said in a cracked whisper. ‘Why didn’t you? Why didn’t you just . . . leave it?’

‘Leave what? What are you on about?’ Dad asked, clearly puzzled.

I knew. I didn’t need David to say it. It was written all over his face.

‘What you said after the fight. To me and Shayne.’

‘You’re over here complaining about that when . . . when all this is going on? I don’t believe it!’ Dad was raising his voice.
‘I don’t bloody well
—’

‘Now, now, Mick. The lad is only trying to help,’ Father Feely said.

‘Trying to
help
? Over here with his tittle tattle, you mean!’ He prodded David’s shoulder. ‘I don’t have time for a troublemaker like you. You get me? I
stand by everything I said. You’re nothing but a little . . . a little . . . You and Lawless! Gurriers, both of you. One’s as bad as the other. Now, if you don’t mind, we’re
in the middle of a crisis here, in case you hadn’t shaggin’ well noticed.’

David looked at the floor and cleared his throat. ‘Shayne followed Ruth into the graveyard.’

Dad’s eyes went flat and still. He held onto the back of Kev’s highchair.

‘We . . . we went into the churchyard after the fight,’ David continued. ‘Shayne wasn’t saying anything. He was really quiet. But I knew he was mad. It was like he went
into a kind of . . . trance or something. He even let me cycle around on his bike and he never does that. Then he climbed up into the tree and just sat there, looking out over the wall.’

‘Go on,’ the sergeant said when David paused. ‘Tell us what happened next.’

‘Well, he was just . . . sitting there, not moving and then . . . he jumped down out of the tree like he was in a real hurry and he started running to the gate. I cycled over and asked him
where he was going and he said . . . he said . . . Ruth had gone into the graveyard with that little . . .’ He stopped and swallowed hard.

‘That little what?’ Dad asked.
‘
That little what? If you’ve something to say, just shaggin’ well say it!’

‘Now, Mick, give the lad some time,’ Father Feely said. ‘He’s doing his best.’

‘Time? He’s had a couple of hours and he’s only telling us this now? How much more bloody time does he need?’

The sergeant touched Dad’s arm. ‘Take it easy, Mick. Now, David, what was it Shayne said?’

‘He said . . . Ruth had gone into the graveyard with that little . . . that little . . .
bastard
. And then . . . and then . . . he got down from the tree and ran in after
her.’

Father Feely blessed himself and muttered under his breath. The sergeant nodded his head slowly. Dad slapped his hands against his sides and whimpered.
‘Jesus Christ, Jesus Christ,
Jesus Christ.’

‘And you didn’t see him, Ruth?’ Sergeant Pearce asked me. ‘You definitely didn’t see anyone except this . . . this . . . man?’

I shook my head. ‘No.’

‘You’re quite sure about that? There’s nothing you want to . . . get off your chest, is there? There was no arrangement to meet up with young Lawless? No agreement that
you’d see each other there?’

‘NO! I already told you!’

‘Well, I suppose we’ll have to look into it, have a word with him. You haven’t seen him since, I take it?’ he asked David.

‘I waited a few minutes,’ David said. ‘Then I just went home. I . . . I don’t know where he is.’

‘If he thinks he’s being smart,’ Dad said, ‘I’ll . . . I’ll . . . I mean it, if he thinks this is funny . . .’

‘Don’t be jumping the gun, now, Mick,’ the sergeant said. ‘Shouldn’t you go up and check on Rose?’

‘I’ll come with you,’ Father Feely said. ‘I believe Dr Crawley came earlier? Best thing, Mick. Best thing for her. The poor . . .’

His voice faded as he followed Dad upstairs. The sergeant spoke quietly to the two guards. I strained to listen but all I could make out was ‘careful’ and ‘time’ and
‘
search’. David kept his eyes to the floor. I could tell he felt awkward. ‘I think I should go home,’ he announced after a minute. ‘I mean . . . if that’s
all right . . .’

‘You go on, lad,’ the sergeant told him. ‘Garda Murphy will escort you. We might be needing to talk to you again. In the meantime, if you think of anything else, you will let
us know?’

David nodded and shuffled out into the hall with his head down. I followed after him and saw he was holding his wrist, the one he’d broken, his fingers pressing hard into the flesh like
they were trying to find their way through to the bone. The sergeant was still talking to Garda Murphy in the kitchen, and while we waited for him at the door, David gave me the same kind of look
that had been in Dad’s eyes: pleading, sad and helpless.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I tried to tell you. I—’

I caught his arm. ‘What you said in the letter – it’s all true, isn’t it?’

He looked at where my fingers gripped him. He nodded. I let his arm drop. It was like my skin had been scalded. I slumped against the wall.

Shayne had pushed him out of the tree. He’d made him take Kev’s pram.

What else had I got wrong?

‘Did you ever climb up on our roof? And hide in the corner of Kev’s room?’

David frowned and shook his head. He didn’t know what I was talking about.

‘And the blackbird,’ I said. ‘On the green. Did you . . . kill it?’

‘Yes.’

‘You did? But why?
Why
?’

His voice was thin and high. ‘I didn’t want to! I hated doing it but I . . . I had to. I saw Shayne from my window. The bird was all weak from the cold and he kicked it around like a
football. He laughed at it struggling on the ground. Then he just . . . he just went off and left it. It was cruel to leave it in pain. I had to put it out of its misery.’

Something burst inside me. It was like I’d woken up from a deep and crazy dream. I searched his face.

‘You know, don’t you?’ I said.

And he nodded, before walking out the door.

They didn’t notice I was gone for a while. It gave me just enough time.

I imagine Dad sat with Mam for a few minutes, glad she was in some other world, and hoping that when she woke up he could look into her eyes and smile and tell her everything was all right.
Father Feely probably stood at the end of the bed, whispering prayers under his breath for Kev’s safe return and reassuring Dad that Sergeant Pearce was doing his very best. I imagine Mel and
Sandra, for once sitting quietly together on the couch, afraid to speak, barely breathing, aware that the life we knew was in the balance and that one tiny movement could tip us over the edge.

I wondered what was going through David’s mind as I saw him walking across the green with Garda Murphy. He was smart enough to know it was over. That this was the end of Hillcourt Rise as
he’d known it all his life. But he’d already made his bid for freedom, made the leap to a wider, open world. Things had changed for him when he’d left for Clonrath.

Only then could he stop acting. Only then did he feel safe to tell the truth.

And what about all those who had gathered on the green? I glanced over at them as I came up out of the cul-de-sac and ran tight in along the shadow of the wall. None of them saw me, so close was
their grouping under their hoods and their umbrellas, and so great was their interest in what David had to say. But he ignored their call for detail and continued walking over to his house with his
head bowed and his steps unsure and faltering. The way they were supposed to be.

I was somehow aware of the depth of the ground under my feet as I ran – of the layers of concrete and rubble and sand. Of clay and rock and boiling liquid reaching down for miles and miles
to a solid mass of something hard and dense and black. I wanted to understand it, to feel the weight of my bones and my flesh against it. To remember what the world I’d known had felt like.
Very soon, I knew I’d take off. I’d lift up into the air and float for . . . who knew how long? I might never touch earth again.